Episodes

I tend to have a sparkly sense of humor. I'm sorry, but this post will not have evidence of it.

I am considering that, at some point, people will be reading this and wondering where I am. It's out there for anyone to read. I think that's okay.

People can't always deal with your chronic pain as you try to live in harmony with a Narcissist. It's like emotional cancer. So, many have stopped listening to me. One refused to answer an email I sent. One said they don't want to talk about it. Some have told me I just need to forgive and since I haven't there's nothing more to talk about. It's okay...they can't deal with it. It just means I have to put on my big girl panties and do what my chronic fear says I can't. Perhaps this is becoming my record, so that when the fit hits the shan I can point and click instead of trying to explain. Again. I don't know...maybe no one will want to know? It is a possibility. I may go down in history as the deranged, selfish, uncaring person my husband believes me to be.

See, I've learned a terrible truth about the last 27 years. I've been a pawn. I've been a play thing. Now that I know, I can't un-know it. And this means that something has to change. I refuse to die to it. So here you go - I'll keep posting and you promise to keep reading. Or just promise to read it when I disappear. Cuz I just might have to.

Tonight was another episode. Had one earlier this week (the condescending, accusing, hate-filled eyes) over a small thing that could be easily fixed and used as a learning opportunity, but CAN'T because his ego was challenged by a neighbor's call. If we would just do things correctly, his reputation would not be sullied.

But back to tonight...my 16yo daughter fell down the stairs on her tail bone. Several of us were in the kitchen and we heard a thump (but I thought it was upstairs, not out front on the stairs). We did not hear anything else. If I'd been alone, I would now be questioning why I have the right to continue being a mother. But there were at least 2 others there who also did not hear anything. She was crying. Loudly. But we simply didn't hear.

My husband heard because, I guess, he was by our upstairs window and the sound came in unobstructed. I don't know. A moment after the thump, my grand daughter was at the door and my husband was stampeding down the stairs from our room, yelling at me about how stupid I am that I just ignored our daughter's screaming. By this time, she had made it in the front door. For another 5 minutes, he berated me about how terrible it is that I didn't even bother to check out the problem. JEEZ! Meanwhile, she is standing next to me, crying. I can't even tend to her because I'm deflecting his tirade. (In retrospect, I could have forcibly ignored him and tended to her, but in the moment, I was in blocking mode. This time, I yelled back - but he obviously didn't hear what I said.)

He still continued. Waving his arms. Huffing. Tirading. Tasmanian Devil, on the loose.

One of my older sons said to his dad, "I'm sorry we inconvenienced you." No response.

In a few moments, my husband came back to the kitchen to tell me he was sorry he 'snapped' at me, but it was just so terrible that I would hear a loud thump and not go to see what it was. (In fact, I thought it was upstairs and was headed up to see if someone had fallen up there.)

I couldn't respond to him. I just couldn't. I had nothing to say. Oh, I had a whole BUNCH of things I wanted to say. But I'm not that person.

He'd just told me several things. 1. In the time it took him to chew me out, he could have been helping his daughter. 2. He really DOES think I'm a terrible human being. I mean what kind of mother hears the cries of her child and ignores them, right? *insert sarcasm here 3. Since he went to bed without a further word while I'm still up through the night, it wasn't about helping her. 4. His apology was more about further accusations than any real concern about the way he'd talked to me.

Welcome to my life.

I don't want to do this anymore.

I don't want this to be true of my life anymore.